


Believe

by Donsular



Category: Mary Poppins (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Crisis of Faith, Dress Up, Family Fluff, Gen, Glitter, Letters, Loss of Faith, Magic, Merry Christmas, Sledding, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donsular/pseuds/Donsular
Summary: It’s Christmas at Cherry Tree Lane, but all is not well. When the youngest of the Banks children stops believing, something must be done to keep the magic of Christmas in his heart.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Believe

When the Banks children woke up on the 23rd, they hadn’t expected anything particularly special to have happened. But when Georgie spotted something outside the window, they realised it was going to be a very good day, indeed. Snow! Dancing in the fresh morning light. A choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind that lay each unique flake down to form a blanket covering the street in almost 6 inches of crisp white flakes. As Georgie watched, his eyes grew wider. The world was like a a fresh page awaiting his playful feet and mittened hands, causing the inner toddler in him to be filled with the deep desire to take a rainbow of crayons and fill this fresh empty page. What would he do first? Make a snowman? Go sledding? Snow angels? Ice skating? The possibilities were endless. But in the end, it was John’s suggestion of a snowball fight that had all three children racing to get dressed and outside to play.

When they made it outside, the world was still sleeping, the lamps were still lit, and the fresh snow was unmarked. The sky was still grey as the flurry of flakes continued to fall over London, but their spirits were as high as if Mr Blue Sky had popped out to say, ‘Hello!’ And it seemed they weren’t the only ones that had been so eager to get out. It was only an hour later when almost all of London had come alive. There was a buzz of energy as children and adults alike played in the snow, all of them being equally loud and merry. An army of snowmen were erected on both sides of a snowball war as the sledders weaved in between the snow angels and raced past the skaters. Footsteps and paw prints crisscrossed on the pavements as people dashed around to get their final Christmas preparations finished, but no matter how hard they tried, they were drawn in to play by the festive cheer.

Annabel, Georgie and John were particularly serious in building the biggest snowman on Cherry Tree Lane, piling high enormous rolled balls to do so. With great difficulty, they managed to stack six of the seven they made. In the end, when Jack walked by on his route- he seemed to have decided not to bother trying to cycle through the thick layer of snow- they had to enlist his help in stacking the final ball, before they began to decorate it with stick arms, a pebble face, a scarf, gloves, and a-

“Hat! We don’t have a hat.” Annabel exclaimed.

“We can just use one of ours.” But Annabel didn’t particularly care for John’s idea.

“We can’t do that. We need ours. If we put one of our own on it, we’ll have to take it off later. We need one that we can leave on it.” But before the twins had a chance to start bickering, Georgie piped up with an idea of his own.

“I’ve got an old hat upstairs that we can use! I’ll go get it.” They seemed to be happy enough with that plan, so with that, Georgie headed inside to find the hat. Hurriedly dashing through the door- but not forgetting to kick the snow off his feet- he raced upstairs to sift through the wardrobe to find what he was looking for.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Michael and Jane were sat wrapping presents for various friends and family members. Boxes were stacked, but none were for the children. They knew wrapping their gifts in the middle of the day would only end in disaster.

“It’s lovely to have a white Christmas for once.” Jane commented.

“Yes, I don’t think we’ve had one since we were the kids’ age. And I suppose we can join them once we’re finished with this lot.” He said, gesturing at the half wrapped presents that sat in front of him.

“Speaking of the kids,” Jane started, “I imagine they’re all excited for Christmas.”

“Oh absolutely. They’ve become fixated on the idea of making Christmas cookies for everyone we know. They were going to be making them today, but I guess they’re all a little distracted.”

“Well, as long as they’re having fun.” She paused for a moment to think, “Do we still need to sign the presents’ labels from Father Christmas, or are they a bit too old for that now?”

“Well, John and Annabel know, but Georgie still believes.”

“Really? I would’ve thought if John and Annabel knew, Georgie would know as well. I mean, they’re not brilliant at keeping secrets.”

“They’re actually being very good about it.” Michael smiled. “They seem determined to let him believe for a bit longer. And he is only eight. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell him that Father Christmas isn’t real. Just let him believe.”

“WHAT?!” The loud voice from a small boy shook the room, as Jane and Michael turned around to see none other than Georgie, having come back downstairs from retrieving an his old hat, looking horrified and already on the verge of tears.

“Father Christmas isn’t real?” Michael sputtered to give him an answer, but when nothing came out, Georgie started to cry.

“Of course he’s real! Of course he’s real!” Jane’s attempt to undo the damage didn’t work as Georgie continued to weep.

“But you said he’s fake! You’re lying!” With that, he turned on his heel and ran back upstairs, despite his father and aunt’s pleas to let them explain. In the end, the two stood defeated as they heard Georgie stomp upstairs, swing the nursery door open and slam it shut behind him. They were totally silent for a few seconds as they looked at each other in horror, before Michael finally sighed and spoke,

“I suppose I should go talk to him. Wish me luck.” He said with a defeated frown. And while Michael headed up, Jane was left to continue with the wrapping and just hope that Christmas wouldn’t be ruined for Georgie.

As the minutes ticked by, she couldn’t hear them talking upstairs, but they didn’t come back down. The tense silence just continued to drag on until John and Annabel came inside. They were a little annoyed that Georgie was taking so long, but when they saw how uncomfortable Jane looked, their focus shifted entirely.

“What’s wrong aunt Jane?”

“Oh it’s your brother. He accidentally found out that Father Christmas isn’t real. And he didn’t take it too well.” The twins cringed at the thought, “Your father’s upstairs with him now, but I’m not sure what can be done about it at this stage.”

The twins walked over, flopping down on the couch beside her as they tried to think. There was no way Georgie would get over this quickly, so there had to be another way.

“What if we make him believe again?” John suggested, but Annabel scoffed,

“And how are we meant to do that? He knows he isn’t real. He won’t believe we’re wrong about it.”

“How do you know? Grown ups get lots of things wrong.” Jane wished she could disagree with them.

“You might be onto something there John. But we’ll need a good plan.”

“Blimey, is he still sorting out little Georgie up there?” Ellen came in tutting with a tray of tea for everyone.

“I’m afraid so.” Jane replied.

“Aww, it’s such a shame. He was so excited about it.”

“Ellen,” John started, “do you have any ideas how we could get him to believe again?” She tapped her chin as she stared at the floor in thought.

“Uh, well I think there’s a place in town where you can take kids to meet Father Christmas. I suppose that’s probably the best you can do. Let him see the big man himself.” A great big grin spread across John’s face at the thought.

“That’s a great idea Ellen! Let’s do that!”

“Let’s do what?” Everyone’s head turned at the sound of Michael coming back downstairs.

“We’re going to take Georgie to meet Father Christmas so he’ll believe in him again!”

“Well that’s a better plan than what I was doing. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t even let me come into the room.”

“Well he’ll come out for this.” Annabel assured as the twins raced upstairs to find their brother.

“Georgie, Georgie! Open the door.” They knocked rapidly in their excitement, so much so, they almost didn’t hear the response they got.

“No.”

“Georgie, they’re grown ups. Of course they don’t believe. They didn’t believe Mary poppins was magic, remember? And she was!” Annabel started.

“Yeah!” John added, “Annabel and I know where we can find the real Father Christmas. And we’re going to show everyone he’s real. Come on, don’t you want to prove them wrong?”

There was no response for a little while, and for a moment, the twins thought they’d have to try another tactic. But once Georgie had finally made up his mind, the door creaked open to reveal his small tear stained face.

“He’s really real?”

“Absolutely!”

“Ok then.” The twins couldn’t help but each do their own little victory dance as they pulled their brother along downstairs, where their father and aunt were already putting their coats on to go.

“Are you ready?” Georgie quietly nodded, still unsure about the whole situation.

“Alright then”, Michael chimed, “let’s go!”

The family were united as they walked out into the snow, laughing and joking the whole way, doing their best to cheer up the youngest. Jane couldn’t help but giggle when she saw the absurdly tall snowman the children had made, which seemed to cheer Georgie right up, as he launched into the long story of everything they’d done in the snow that morning.

The walk into town was a rather long one. Although Ellen had told them where they needed to go, all the Christmas chaos meant they had more than a few issues figuring out where which way they should head. But there were worse days to be lost. The sun may have been hidden by the clouds, but the London people’s cheer was infectious. The markets buzzed, the people sang and if you listened closely, you could almost hear someone shouting ‘watch out’.

Wait.

Picking up on the panicked cry first, Jane was the one to push everyone backwards, just in time for a group of leeries to whizz by on an old overturned table that they appeared to be using as a family-sized bobsleigh, racing through the junction they had been just about to cross, and crashing into a large barrier that had been made out of a wall of snow.

“What on earth!” Despite Michael’s surprise, the leeries seemed to have enjoyed the ride, practically falling off their table laughing like mad.

“That was amazing!” One cheered.

“It was so worth hauling the table up there!” As they fell about laughing, Jane almost wanted to ask if they were alright. They all seemed to be covered in cuts and bruises from the multiple rides down they’d undoubtedly taken during the day.

“Wait, wait,” one laughed, barely even able to shout through his excitement “Jack’s coming down in a washing basket!!” The Banks family looked up the road to their right. It had a particularly steep incline and was a rather long climb up. It didn’t look even remotely safe as cars were parked at the side of the road, many people were coming down at once, and the cobbles -even though they were under the snow- weren’t going to be particularly forgiving, but sure enough, there was Jack at the top, about to slide down in his white washing basket.

“Oh dear God no.” Jane muttered, her head in her hands.

From the top of the hill, Jack waved down to his friends, before kneeling in the basket. He shuffled himself along until he was at the edge of the slide, before he tipped over the edge and came racing down. It was a long way to go, and the speed was picking up.

“I have an idea.” A devilish smirk spread over one of the leerie’s face and he scooped up a pile of snow before setting it down at the base of the hill. The other leeries quickly caught on and joined in. They had to act fast. Jack would be barrelling towards them any second. Everyone watched in either horror of pure joy- depending on who it was- as Jack realised what was happening. But he didn’t seem put off. He cheered, shouted and screamed in excitement with the wind in his hair, as he shot towards the ramp far too quickly for the Banks’ liking.

When Jack hit the ramp, he was launched several feet into the air, screaming in a mixture of terror and excitement. The leeries watched in amazement as he easily cleared the snow barrier, landing on the other side, where the rather hard landing caused the basket to tip, flinging his body out to smash onto the harsh cobbles, where he rolled another few feet.

The whole group was silent. Still in total shock. And when Jack didn’t immediately get up again, they all rushed over, regretting their life choices.

“Oh my God, we killed him!”

“Not quite.” Jack groaned, still lying face down in the snow. With some difficulty he sat up again, seeming not to be too badly hurt, aside from a rather large cut on his cheek that was bleeding quite badly.

“That was awesome!” He laughed

“You should’ve seen yourself! You came down so fast!” One exclaimed.

“And you went like 10 feet in the air.” The second’s was accompanied with wild gestures, and soon enough, all the leeries were laughing and shouting in total excitement over nearly killing their friend. Even Jack couldn’t help but laugh, even as he was clutching his side which hurt like hell.

“Wait wait, don’t make me laugh!” He spluttered out despite his own howling and merriment, “I think my ribs are broken!” Despite this, it only seemed to make them laugh even more, as Jane rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to kill yourselves doing this, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jack laughed, “but it’ll be worth it. There’s worse ways to go.”

“Ugh, honestly.”

As the rest of the group set about taking their table back up the hill, Jane sat with Jack to clean up the blood on his face.

“So, what brings you round our neck of the woods?”

“Well,” John started, “we were on our way to go see Father Christmas, but we got a bit lost.”

“Yes, I’m afraid Georgie here is having a bit of a crisis of faith,” Michael explained, “he’s losing his belief in Father Christmas.” Jack smirked and shuffled over to Georgie, as if he was going to have a serious secret conversation with him.

“Go on, who told you he was fake?”

“Father did.” Jack looked up at Michael who held a rather sheepish expression. As Jack realised what was going on, he almost burst out laughing again, only just about being able to contain himself with a rather dumb looking grin. Once more, he’d have to save this family from a crisis.

“You’ve really done yourself in this time, Banks.” But as Michael awkwardly averted his gaze, Jack just turned back to Georgie.

“Well, no matter. It’s alright Georgie, because your Pa’s wrong.” He chirped, standing up.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve met him of course.” Georgie was doubtful, “When I was about your age, I didn’t really believe either. But then, one year, I came down in the night and he was in my living room!”

“Really?”

“Yep. Had a chat with him, and emptied a pack of biscuits together, and then he went on his way. My parents didn’t believe me, but I know what saw.” He said with a sly grin. Jane smiled fondly at them as Jack looked around them, thinking.

“In fact, I believe if your looking to meet him, he’ll be on West Wallaby Street. Just head down there, take the first left and go straight on to the end of the road. I saw him setting up by the park gate this morning.”

“Oh, thanks Jack, I thought we’d have to walk all over London to find the place.”

“Not a problem, but I suggest you get going. I think the lads are going to come down on that table again, and I don’t think the barrier’s going to do much this time round.” So with that, they said their goodbyes and headed their separate ways, now with a much better idea of where they were going.

“Honestly, they’re gonna get themselves killed by the end of the day.” Jane muttered.

“Put it this way,” Michael began, “they’ve almost certainly done this before. And they’re not dead yet.”

They carried on chattering as they went, following Jack’s directions. And sure enough, after a five minute walk, they came across the park gate where Father Christmas sat just to the side of it, meeting the children of London and asking what they’d like for Christmas.

Georgie appeared to lighten up quite a bit at the sight, and both Jane and Michael discreetly high fived each other, savouring the success. So they joined the rather long queue and waited for the chance to finally fix everything.

It was nearly twenty minutes when they finally reached the front of the queue. By then, it looked like they were going to be the last customers of the day. Luckily for them, the man dressed as Santa did look pretty convincing, even despite the fake beard. Georgie seemed to believe it, and was even quite cheerful as he sat on his knee and spoke to the man.

“Hello, young man. What can I do for you?”

“We came to see if you were real. My father said you weren’t.” He said, flashing his father a look like he was the dumbest person alive, “but he was wrong.” He laughed. Santa chuckled slightly too

“Well, I’m glad you believe in me again. Now, have you been a good boy this year?” This launched the two into a whole conversation about what he’d like for Christmas, and Michael had to admit, it warmed his heart to see him so excited about Christmas again. When they’d finally finished up, Georgie was even given some sweets, and so were the twins, who had politely insisted they were getting too old to sit on Santa’s knee.

As they turned to leave, everyone was certain the trip had been a success. That was, until, Georgie turned around. He just wanted to look one last time before they left. But when he did, he wished he hadn’t. For when he looked, ‘Santa’ had taken off his beard so he could have a drink. Now Georgie wasn’t stupid. He knew the real Santa- if there even was one- wouldn’t have a fake beard. He knew this was a man in a costume. And he wasn’t too happy about it.

“Dad. That’s a man in a costume. That’s not Father Christmas.”

Oh no.

That trip ended just as it began. Georgie went silent and rushed to his room the moment they got home, hiding from everyone again. Michael attempted to make things better, but it didn’t work, he didn’t believe him when he said the man worked for Santa. The day had been a disaster, and now they needed another plan.

Later that day, Jane had the idea of leaving a letter from Santa by the fireplace for Georgie. However, this plan fell through when he recognised Jane’s handwriting. The next idea was John’s. They scattered red glitter on the floor and when Georgie asked, said it was magic dust. However this failed too. Georgie originally thought someone spilt some glitter when they made a Christmas card, and when he was told it was dust, he had outwardly laughed at the idea. Even Annabel’s idea failed despite initially looking so promising. She placed a toy elf by the fire and told him that it told Santa how well kids were behaving. When he wasn’t looking, they’d move it around the house to follow him around. It almost worked, he couldn’t figure out how it was always near him, but things went wrong when he caught John moving it to the kitchen while they baked biscuits on Christmas Eve.

Overall, every plan had been a mess, and as the night drew in on Christmas Eve, Michael knew he’d messed up. Georgie was only eight, and thanks to such a thick-headed mistake, he’d ruined the magic of Christmas for him. Jane did her best to assure him that he’d get over it eventually, and that would be alright, if he wasn’t only just starting having to get over it the day before Christmas. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was the middle of the year, but the timing had just ruined everything.

As Michael sat moping on his front door step, in the cold, a familiar cheerful whistle filled his ears as Jack came wandering down the street, obviously still not thinking it a good idea to cycle in the snow. The leerie didn’t even notice Michael at first. It was only when he’d raised his lighting pole and lit that lamp, that Michael was illuminated on the otherwise dark street and Jack spotted him.

“What’re you doing out here? You should be inside, it’s freezing!”

“What does it look like I’m doing, I’m moping.” Jack scoffed,

“No, you’re sulking. What’s up?”

Michael sighed, “Nothing we did worked. He knows that the Santa we took him to see was just a guy dressed up. We left letters, we put down glitter, we had a magic elf, for crying out loud! But nothing worked and he still doesn’t believe, and now he thinks that Christmas is ruined.”

“Well, maybe I could help. It’s not too late.”

“Yes it is,” he mumbled with his head in his hands, “it’s hopeless.”

“Not necessarily.” Michael looked up at him, clearly confused,

“You’ve got an idea, haven’t you?”

“Yep, I’ll do the same thing my father arranged for me. After all, the night before Christmas is the best possible time to prove magic is real.” And once they had a plan all set, they parted ways as if their secret meeting never even took place. Michael headed back inside with a spring in his step that evening, got the children settled, and sent them off to bed, completely sure in the fact that this final plan would work, it had to.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

DONG!

The old clock struck twelve an Georgie couldn’t sleep. He wanted to believe so badly that everyone was wrong, that Father Christmas was real. But he couldn’t look past how much they were willing to do to lie to him. They were absolutely trying to make him believe, when clearly, he wasn’t real. He hated every part of it. Ever since they met Mary Poppins, he knew magic had to be real. And he’d been so sure that it would apply to Santa too. But obviously it didn’t.

He rolled over, desperately trying to get his mind to quiet so he could get some sleep. But then he heard it. A soft thump came from downstairs. Definitely downstairs. He shot up from his bed, looking around. Nothing was in the room with him, and both John and Annabel were still fast asleep. He must’ve imagined it. But then he heard it again.

Thump.

No, he definitely didn’t imagine that. The night was completely still, but it seemed like something was going on downstairs. And since he couldn’t sleep, he may as well go find out.

Carefully, so as not to wake his siblings, he crawled out of bed and tiptoed out of the room, quietly padding out into the hall and down the steps. But once he was half way down the staircase, he saw exactly what was in the living room.

Father Christmas?

“Hello.” The man froze as he placed a present down from the bag he held. He slowly turned around and, upon spotting Georgie, a warm and friendly smile spread across his face.

“Hello Georgie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Why, I’m Father Christmas,” he chuckled, “I know everyone’s name! I have to if I want to properly watch over you all year.”

“So, you’re real?”

“Well of course I am!” He said gesturing to himself, “I’m standing here aren’t I?” Georgie wandered down to the bottom of the stairs and entered the lounge, still feeling a little cautious. This ‘Santa’- as he still wasn’t 100% sure about him- was definitely on the skinny side, but his thick white beard and enormous red coat certainly made him look bigger and more like how he expected him to be.

“I was sure you weren’t real. Father even said so.” Santa crouched down to his height when Georgie got closer, an amused smile on his face.

“Yes, I’ve heard all about that. Grown-ups tend to forget about magic. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t believe in it.”

“Ok.”

“And after all, they’ve been doing everything in their power so you would believe in the magic again. And that’s what Christmas is about. Making something special for someone you love. You don’t need me to be real to enjoy it.” Georgie was trying to pay attention to him, but his gaze couldn’t help but be drawn to a large cut on his cheek, and the realisation hit him.

“I imagine you’ll have a very good day tomorrow. You’re behaviour hasn’t gone unnoticed this year. You’ve been a very good boy.”

“Thank you.” He said, with a knowing smile.

“Now, it’s getting late. I think you ought to be going back to bed.” Georgie grinned, hurrying into the kitchen to get the biscuits they’d made earlier that day to pass one to Santa.

“Here you go, Jack. Merry Christmas.” He was shocked that Georgie recognised him, but based on the genuine smile on the little boy’s face, he clearly wasn’t upset about his discovery. He was actually happy... somehow.

“Merry Christmas, Georgie.” Jack smiled after the young boy as he dashed back to the stairs, giggling as he took one last look behind him before heading back up to bed.

The night was silent once again as Georgie made his way back to bed, crawling under the still-warm sheets. Of course it was Jack. Father was right. Father Christmas wasn’t real. He couldn’t be. Because it would completely impossible. Father Christmas was many people. Anyone who gave anyone any sort of gift, physical or not. Father Christmas was someone who did something special to bring joy to others. He wasn’t magic in the sense of flying reindeer or elves, he was magic in the sense he could bring joy to anyone’s day with something so simple as showing someone that they were cared for. And that’s what his family had always done, not just in the past days. But always. They made sure he was loved. They gave him their time. They listened to him. He didn’t need presents from a magic man, because he already had a magic family, with magic friends. Everyone of them wanted him to believe. They wanted him to think the world was magic. Aunt Jane wrote letters, Annabel controlled a magic elf, John made magic dust, Jack dressed up and even Ellen had sent them into the world to find a bit of magic. And father. Of course he’d been the one who started the whole thing. But he cared so much. He was the first person racing to be at his side, to support him. And although he may not have realised at the time, that love had been the most magical thing of all. Father Christmas was real. Because love was real. And that’s all you could ever need.

So as Georgie lay in bed, his mind finally found itself at peace. In the morning, he’d have the most magical day of the year, full of love and happiness. And as the night drew on, and sleep crept up on him, he only said one thing. But it was the thing that mattered most,

“I believe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, and everything else, you gorgeous people. I hope you have a wonderful day and a magical Christmas Day tomorrow. Remember to make Christmas special for someone you love, their faces will be priceless. I love you all, so have a very merry Christmas, and a happy new year!


End file.
